


Pretending is for Losers

by Shadowsdance



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Background Polygamous Relationship, Because of Reasons, But No One Is Faking, Derek is the Best Mate, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Im not biased i swear, M/M, No really hes the best mate anyone could ask for, Second!Derek, Spark!Emissary!Stiles, stiles is powerful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 11:01:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4917094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowsdance/pseuds/Shadowsdance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has to go to Washington to meet some pack leader about who knows what (thanks for the rundown Scott, real helpful) and Derek has to go because, well, unmated Spark Emissary Stiles is a hot topic of discussion and Scott (oh mighty alpha dumbass) had the bright idea to have them pretend to be mated.</p><p>Stiles might actually kill him, tbh.</p><p>-----</p><p>Derek yanks him a little, right into his lap, and noses behind Stiles' ear.</p><p>Stiles sighs and leans into him. "This is bullshit," he mutters. "Where are we going, when are we leaving?"</p><p>Scott smiles like he's been told yes, you can keep that puppy. "You'll do it?"</p><p>"As long as my dad doesn't have to know I'm fake dating the guy I've told him repeatedly I'm not with." Stiles twitches as Derek brushes a sensitive spot. "Yeah, I'll do it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretending is for Losers

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so. I've tried to post this like twice before. Third time's the charm?
> 
> Editing will be done eventually (still haven't edited my other recent post oops)
> 
> There's sex in this one, sure, but it's not extremely graphic. The rating's for copious use of Stiles saying "fuck."

Stiles walks into Derek's loft with a latte and shades covering half his face. He still smells like alcohol from the party the night before, regardless of the 20 minute shower he took, and the wall of windows is casting entirely /too much/ light into the room.

Scott is the first to ask if he's okay. Stiles snorts and drapes himself over a kitchen counter. "Tell me why I'm conscious so I can go back to pretending I'm dead."

"Uh...." Scott waits until Stiles tilts his face toward him. He spouts something too quick and jumbled for Stiles to understand in his impaired state. At the lack of response, he repeats, slowly, "a pack requested a meeting with us. And I've got that wedding I was invited to in Wisconsin so I was thinking maybe send my Emissary?" 

Stiles stares at him silently then heaves himself off the counter and slides down onto a couch, sipping his latte and resolutely ignoring the headache pounding away merrily in his forehead. "When do I have to leave and is it just going to be me because I know I've got my magic but like werewolves are strong and I just don't know if I can deal with a whole pack if things go bad, you know?" 

Scott sits next to him, hand draped around the back of his neck as he takes the pain of Stiles' headache away. "Derek's going with you."

The way he says it has Stiles looking at him. "What aren't you telling me?"

Derek is suddenly beside him, pressed to his side from shoulder to knee. "An unmated Emissary who can do magic is a strange occurrence. I'm posing as your mate." He leans in and scents Stiles like it's whatever.

Stiles stares at Scott with his mouth pressed into a firm flat line. "Why."

Scott gives this tiny bashful smile. "Issac is mated to Alison and me. Erica and Boyd are mated. Lydia and Jackson are mated. It's...kind of the only choice?" He shrugs, hands palm up.

Stiles thinks he's full of shit. "How in fuck's name are we gonna fake being mates?!" He goes to throw his hands up and finds one trapped between Derek's. He gives him a scathing look that's slightly less effective with the glasses on his face. "What the hell are you doing?" he demands as Derek rubs his cheek on Stiles' palm.

"Getting started on faking. Scents are a good indicator of a mate. Ours need to mix. You could stop being a child about it and help." Derek yanks him a little, right into his lap, and noses behind Stiles' ear.

Stiles sighs and leans into him. "This is bullshit," he mutters. "Where are we going, when are we leaving?"

Scott smiles like he's been told yes, you can keep that puppy. "You'll do it?"

"As long as my dad doesn't have to know I'm fake dating the guy I've told him repeatedly I'm not with." Stiles twitches as Derek brushes a sensitive spot. "Yeah, I'll do it."

"Great! Thanks, man. The other pack's in Washington, just south of the Canadian border. You guys need to be there by Friday."

Stiles, who is currently face first in Derek's chest, grunts. Derek hums and rubs his cheek on Stiles' hair.

\-----

The next day, Stiles wakes up surrounded in the smell of leather, pine, and maple. He moans and takes a deep breath, burrowing into the scent. His eyes snap open when he realizes he's pressed into Derek, his face just beside Derek's, who is still out cold and curled around him like Stiles is a teddy bear.

Stiles, unable to stop himself, rubs his cheek against Derek's stubble. He freezes when Derek huffs and cracks an eye. "Morning?"

"Too early. Go back to sleep." The words are muttered into te curve of Stiles' neck as he shoves his face there.

It takes Stiles another ten or so minutes but he eventually falls back to sleep, cuddled up to Derek's warmth.

\-----

Days include Stiles and Derek practically glued at the hip. Stiles goes to his house, Derek goes with him. Stiles goes to the store, hey look there's Derek. Derek goes to the bookstore, Stiles complains about his choice in genre the entire way back to Derek's loft.

Summer break is coming to a close, though, and even if Stiles would love to go party again and get utterly shitfaced again before they go on this magical mystery trip to northern Washington, he knows the resulting hangover wouldn't be anywhere close to worth it. Especially if he has to deal with Derek's unhappy morning disapproval. 

And Derek is /really/ not a morning person. No amount of coffee or sweets changes that. He glowers at the sun coming through the windows like it personally offended him, he snarls at any bird that makes the mistake of coming too close to him, he doesn't construct sentences longer than three words (generally "shut up Stiles" which rude). Stiles is kind of put off by it, as he's generally fine after his third cup of tea.

"How long are we going to be gone?" Stiles asks one afternoon, sprawled across Derek's lap, wrapped in one of Derek's sweaters as the man thumbs through a well-worn book, his free hand sliding up and down Stiles' leg.

"About a week, more or less," he answers absently, turning his head and brushing his nose against Stiles' temple. "Why? Got plans?"

"How could I make any plans without you knowing? You're with me pretty much all the time." A yawn forces out of Stiles' mouth and he shifts, cuddling more into Derek. "I'm taking a nap."

"The rest of the couch is right there."

"Scents, Derek."

"Pretty sure my entire house smells like us. You do."

"Good." Stiles slides into a comfortable warm light sleep, cheek pressed to Derek's shoulder.

He wakes up about a hour later, grumbling as Derek sets him on the couch and making grabby hands groggily. Derek gently maneuvers his hands back to the couch and lays a light blanket over him. After a brief moment where Stiles starts to slip back away, he thinks he feels Derek press a light kiss to his forehead. He isn't sure, though.

\-----

The trip there is uneventful. Derek makes a face at every place Stiles wants to eat at and Stiles complains about the way rain kind of takes over the farther north they get.

They arrive at the Corinth pack's home a day early. Stiles spends the whole twelve seconds it takes them to get outside silently freaking out. Derek puts his hand on the back of his neck and rubs his thumb along his jaw.

The obvious leader is a tall woman with long red-brown hair and brown eyes that crinkle when she smiles. She wears a huge voluminous cape made of some brown fuzzy fabric that drapes over her figure and she holds hands with a slightly shorter male and female on either side of her. The male looks kind of like Peter in the face but has sandy blond hair and his eyes are green, so very green. Stiles drops his eyes after that and turns, breathing in Derek's scent and relaxing almost immediately. He turns back to examine the other female, as no one else has stepped out of the house following them.

She's red haired, blue eyed, and freckled all over. She winks when Stiles meets her eyes then moves her gaze to Derek rather obviously.

"Welcome," the tall woman says, wrenching Stiles' attention back to her. "My name is Amalia Corinth, Alpha. I assume you're Pack McCall's Emissary and mate?"

It takes a second for Stiles to realize she's talking to him, because Derek's hand has curled into his belt loop and slid him closer. "Oh, yeah, that's us. I'm Stiles, this is Derek."

Amalia's smile widens. "Great. This is Liara and Garrett. They're my seconds."

Derek's frown is almost heard. "Two seconds?" He turns his head as Stiles leans in, brushes his cheek on Stiles' hair. "I've never heard of that."

"It's...new for us, too. Come on, this is probably a conversation better had with tea." Amalia waves her hands and Garrett and Liara take the lead back into the house.

Stiles turns his head up and Derek leans down so Stiles can breathe, "need to be alone with you a minute, soon," into his ear.

"Just a minute?" Derek replies with a tiny, secret smile that throws Stiles completely because wow okay mates yeah.

"Got me there. But I bet I could fit you into a minute." Stiles grins, fully prepared to snark and flirt his way through the next few days.

He's not prepared for Derek's flash of Wolfy eyes and the doorframe in his back as Derek scents him. The mouth that glides up his throat makes his knees weak. "Bet I could fit /you/ in a minute." He licks Stiles' chin and practically preens when Stiles whimpers. 

Oh man. Stiles is so dead.

\-----

The whole house smells like lavender-infused Earl Grey and Stiles loves it. The tea Amalia serves is said Earl Grey and Stiles loves that even more. The look Derek gives him when he puts sugar into his is pure "really?" and Stiles doesn't even care. His tea tastes like perfection.

Derek hasn't stopped touching him since they got there. Stiles won't admit how nice it feels, not to anyone no way no how. Amalia eyes him as Stiles sinks against Derek's side, cup cradled in his hands.

"Is this a new mating?" she asks bluntly.

Derek rumbles low in his throat, obviously slightly offended. Stiles quickly jumps in. "Yeah, actually." Stiles tilts his head back and smiles at Derek's sour expression. He quickly looks back down at Amalia. "We've known each other for a while but just recently.... Well."

Amalia smiles indulgently. "When did you know?"

Stiles almost opens his mouth to answer but realizes the question's directed at Derek.

"I knew a while back." Derek glances at Stiles but doesn't react to the look Stiles is giving him. "He was young, though, and his father is law enforcement. I didn't want to put the...er...idea into his head until the chances of his father killing me dropped when he turned 18." Derek looks acutely uncomfortable, his hand just shy of bruising on Stiles' arm.

The look on Amalia's face can only be described as fondness. "I met Garrett before I met Liara. It was...immediate attraction. Fireworks, if you will." She shakes her head and focuses back on them. "Liara came two years later. It was a shock to both Garrett and I. Two mates? Two seconds? Oddity among oddities." She smiles as someone Stiles and Derek haven't met yet brings her a small tablet and thanks them. She unlocks it and sits back, crossing her legs and letting her cape fall open.

Stiles likes her. Capes, polygamy, tea that smells like pure happiness...he's kind of tempted to stay. But Derek is in Scott's pack and Scott and his dad.... Plus everyone else, of course.

"Okay. How would you like to go about this?" She looks up at them through her lashes.

Stiles glances at Derek who looks just as blank as him, then says, slowly, "our alpha was a bit lacking in details. And by a bit, I mean we have no idea why we're here."

She tsks. "Sloppy. It has come to multiple packs' attention that you are an extremely powerful druid."

Stiles wiggles a hand in the air. "That's not a term I'd use. I'm just a Spark. No druid anything. I don't think I can be cryptic enough to fit in."

Her expression is bland amusement. "Indeed. Then you are a widely known extremely powerful Spark and Pack Corinth would like two things. One, we would like an alliance between our packs. Two, we would like to buy your services in installing wards on our grounds to encourage peace and prosperity."

Stiles blinks. "I wasn't expecting to do any magic on this trip. I don't have any supplies I need." He's making a list in his head of what he needs when it hits him. "Wait, /pay/? What are we talking?"

Derek rolls his eyes and Stiles practically hears it. "Figured the money would be the first thing you noticed. Guess I was wrong." He noses behind Stiles' ear and Stiles is abruptly aware he's in Derek's lap with him wrapped around Stiles .

Stiles huffs. "I'm going to college soon, man, it's important to have money." He turns his head at Derek's fingers on his chin and almost comes out of his skin when Derek kisses the corner of his mouth.

"You say that like you think I won't take care of you." The words are whispered against his skin and Stiles wants to turn completely, plaster himself against Derek, mouth at his stubble until his mouth is raw.

"Wasn't sure how much was left from your family," Stiles whispers back instead of doing something rash.

"Regardless of that, Corinth Pack is willing to pay your first two years at any college you choose as a sign of good faith. That is completely separate from what we're going to pay for you doing your wards, if you agree to." Amalia sounds like she's an indulgent parent talking to her kids, and Stiles flushes as he realizes they're almost completely ignoring her.

He processes that with his eyes wide and fixed on her. "Two years? Anywhere?"

She nods. "The offer is also extended to any of your pack that wishes to take it. As for the wards...would five thousand suffice?"

Stiles would be sliding to the floor in a heap if Derek wasn't holding him. "Five thousand?" he repeats.

She suddenly looks unsure and glances at her tablet. "Our last wards were one thousand a layer. Seeing as you're exceptionally more talented, if tales are to be believed, I believed five a layer would be an acceptable amount."

"A layer?" Stiles squeaks. "Oh my god. How...how many layers?"

"Ten."

"I...that's...." Stiles is speechless and he can feel Derek's amused smile pressed into the back of his neck. Fifty thousand dollars. There's a sound like a high pitched whistle and Stiles realizes he's making it a moment later and abruptly stops. "Yeah. Yeah. Five works. A layer. Um, but if you find them lacking in any way, I'm totally fine getting it cut to twenty-five hundred. No hard feelings or anything."

"I highly doubt we'll find you lacking, Emissary Stiles." Amalia gives him the kindest smile he's ever seen ever. "I could feel your magic the moment you entered our grounds. You're much more powerful than you give yourself credit for."

"She's right," Derek murmurs, warm breath fanning on Stiles' ear.

Stiles is kind of freaking out but he's extremely pleased when he says, in a calm even tone, "I'm going to need to call my alpha to talk to him about an alliance. If you could excuse us?"

"Of course. Take your time." Amalia rises with them and stands there until they leave.

Derek stops him before he gets in the car, presses him against it and mouths his throat. "Your heart is racing. Relax." He nibbles the spot behind his ear and Stiles jolts, a startled gasp leaving his lips.

"Did you hear what she just said? Oh my god, Derek. She's giving me enough money to pay the rest of Dad's house payments. She's offering to help me through college and anyone else in the pack. Derek...." Stiles trails off as Derek leaves his neck and brushes their noses. 

"I heard. Relax. If things go well, we're going to have others asking for your magic. Think of it as a business. A very profitable business." His eyes drop to a mole by Stiles' eye. "I just wish I had all of what we had before the fire to give you."

Stiles knows his mouth is hanging open but holy shit. Is this acting? Is this Derek acting? Because that raw pain sounded real and Stiles wants to kiss him so bad and whoops there he is kissing him.

He kisses gently, just a slight pressure that's more reassurance than anything else but Derek hums and deepens it, hands on either side of Stiles' neck and thumbs on his jaw.

Stiles breaks it, pressing his forehead to Derek's. "It's okay. I don't need any of that. I've got you." He's being completely honest and wow okay he's totally in love with him. Okay. "Need to call Scott," he reminds Derek as said wolf starts back down his neck.

"Go ahead." Derek doesn't stop licking and sucking and nibbling and okay wow okay.

Scott answers on the fourth ring. "Hey! How's the visit going?" 

Stiles bites his lip as Derek's stubble brushes a sensitive spot. "Ah...would've been real nice to know we're here to negotiate an alliance."

Stiles can almost hear the bashful smile. "Er...sorry?" There's a momentary pause. "Is Derek being good?"

"So good, Scott, holy crap." Stiles grips his free hand in Derek's hair as he sucks a mark high on his neck. "You don't even know."

Scott makes a noise close to choking. "TMI. Tell me what Alpha Corinth's offering."

"Um...college. Two years of college for whoever wants. Also she's offering me fifty grand to do her wards." It doesn't seem as overwhelming with Derek's mouth on his throat.

"Oh. That's cool. How long will it take to do the wards?" He sounds kind of numb at the seemingly casual way Corinth wants to throw around money.

"Probably like two or three days if I can get everything I need today. And if Derek doesn't distract me." Derek has Stiles' wrist at his mouth now, staring at him as he rubs his cheek against it. "Like he is now."

"Okay. Um. Okay. Just...be safe. And ask if Alpha Corinth would be willing to call me later. I want to talk to her myself, but there's a lot going on here, I gotta get back."

"Yeah. Okay. Uh...how long?"

"Three hours?"

"Yeah. Later Scotty. Stay safe."

"You too. Both of you."

Derek's eye roll moves his head with it. "Whatever," he mutters.

"I heard that."

"Okay bye!" Stiles hangs up and drags Derek up for another kiss, moaning when Derek licks into his mouth, gripping desperately onto his stupid leather jacket.

Derek wrenches away this time, eyes glowing. He licks his lips and lets out a pleased growl before he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath that stutters a little. "Can..can you please...just...." He opens his eyes and gives Stiles a pleading look. "You just smell so...."

Stiles licks his own lips and nods, trying to slip away from between the car and Derek and failing because Derek is still holding him there. "Uh...Derek?"

Derek curls against him, shuddering. "Stiles...mine...mate." He kisses gently, lightly, on the mark he made earlier. "I...you are."

Stiles laughs and nods. "Yeah, big guy."

Derek pulls away and shakes his head, noses brushing again. "Really. Mine. Mate. Don't want you to have to have other packs help. Want to help you." He looks like a puppy and god Stiles is /gone/ fuck.

"You are. You do. All the time. You are right now. I'd be panicking without you." Stiles combs a hand through Derek's hair. At his pleased rumble, he keeps doing it.

"Stiles," Derek breathes.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. I...my wolf." He says it like it explains everything which it kind of does.

"I know. You ready to head back in? I'm going to need your help with the wards."

Derek looks at him and smiles and Stiles thinks his heart skips a beat because that's so fucking cute fuck. "Yeah."

\-----

Amalia has everything he needs. Stiles is actually almost overwhelmed with the amount of stuff she has. She's got the wards she wants wrote down and the items he'll need for each packaged individually per ward. Bless.

As she talks to Scott on the phone, perched on a low wall around the small garden she wants warded from harmful elements with her tablet in her lap, Stiles goes through each ward, slowly and precisely, believing so hard in it that magic is making him tingle all over and Derek is staring.

He gets through the first four in the time still left of daylight. Two he has to do at night and the rest can be done any time the following day.

He's restless when he finishes, though, and he gives Derek a pleading look. "Diner down the road with the amazing curly fries?" he begs.

Derek laughs. "Sure, Stiles. Anything you want."

"You for dessert?"

"I'm sure something could be arranged." Derek kisses him lightly.

"Emissary Stiles? Second Derek?" Amalia's voice is pleasant and clear. "If you're planning on being gone very long, please call and let us know."

Stiles flushes. She thinks.../god/.

"Also, if it's the diner I'm thinking of, say hello to Paula for me, please?"

"Of course." Derek glances at her and nods as he maneuvers Stiles back to the car. "Wanna get you alone," he whispers in his ear and /Jesus/ he can't just say things like that, it's totally not fair at all.

\-----

They make it to the diner. Paula happens to own it and gives them a free slice of pie at the mention of Amalia Corinth. Derek huffs like he's mad until he takes a bite of the pecan pie and practically melts off his stool.

"Not that I don't enjoy your whole macho 'protect, provide' thing, but it's cool. You don't have to glower at the pie like it insulted your mother." Stiles finishes his own apple pie (extra cinnamon, brown sugar, and a scoop of ice cream on top) and leans on his elbow, eyeing Derek.

"You're ridiculous," Derek mutters. His fingers brush Stiles' hand as he reaches for a napkin.

"Nah, /you're/ ridiculous. Ridiculously attractive, am I right?" He aims the last part at Paula as she sashays by and laughs when she winks. "Come on, though, let's go run naked through the woods or something. I've got all this energy and it's making me more jittery than normal."

Derek gives him a look that makes his toes curl. "Running isn't what I'm thinking of."

"Oh fuck." Stiles shudders at the thought.

The get back in the car and Derek pauses a moment before turning to Stiles. "I'm not faking."

"Oh thank god, me neither."

They drive down the road and pull off into a rest stop before they both cant't take it and surge together. Turns out a gear shift is a terrible thing when you're trying to have mind-blowing sex in the front seat. They make due.

\-----

They stay at the Corinth house that night after Stiles does the night wards and get all kinds of looks from the people they run into in the morning. Derek preens like a peacock because he's the reason Stiles probably kept the whole house awake. Stiles finishes the wards completely and still gapes when Amalia hands him the 50k check because that's more money than he's ever had.

He ends up hugging her, probably breaking like 30 etiquette rules and she hugs him back with a laugh and a promise to visit the McCall pack soon. Garrett and Liara hug him too and when he steps back, Derek is there, rubbing his face all over.

Stiles gives them a "what can you do" look and squirms when Derek tickles him.

The entire pack groans when they walk into the loft kissing like they don't know how to stop.

"You all have homes," Derek grumbles against Stiles' lips. "Or at least /somewhere/ else you can go."

Scott, who is pink and looking anywhere but at his best friend kissing his second, quickly jumps at the not-so-subtle invitation to /leave/, grabbing Allison and Issac and dragging them out. Everyone leaves just as quickly, and Derek hums, pleased with himself.

"Where were we?" Stiles murmurs, hands trailing under Derek's shirt. "Oh yeah...."

**Author's Note:**

> Comment me constructive criticism?
> 
> I have a tumblr. I'll link it when I format everything.


End file.
